


The Second Path

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: First Age, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2008-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 10:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4218284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would have happened if Maedhros had chosen differently? This is mostly from Maglor's point of view. When does his love for his protective brother turn into something incestous? And how long can he keep the secret?<br/>Will there be salvation? For Thangorodrim, for the deaths of their siblings, relatives and warriors? Will they ever have anything more than mere memories of the High-Princes they once had been?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

He walked slowly, his eyes sweeping the surround, as he tried to pinpoint the soft singing. He reached a clearing, there on the ground lay spread lazily, dressed in a tight tunic and leggings, his beloved cousin.  
  
“Maitimo”, Fingon greeted him as he dropped beside his cousin’s tall slender form, “Why are you singing in the woods?”  
  
Maedhros lazily shifted his head into his cousin’s lap before picking up his tune again, the silence between them falling pleasantly as Fingon ran his hands through his cousin’s coppery tresses.  
  
“Why did you leave home?” Maedhros asked finally as he finished singing, “Nolofinwe was very displeased. He came to my father and asked his aid to hunt for you. I was at Grandfather’s house and I did not know until yesterday about your escape. My brothers and our cousins have been searching for weeks in the wild for an absconding prince of the house of Finwe.”  
  
Fingon muttered angrily, “Father wanted me to take an apprenticeship with Arafinwe for the healing arts. I don’t want to do it. I tried telling him, we had an argument, he slapped me.”  
  
Maedhros sat up worriedly, and looked into Fingon’s clouded face, “Findekano, Would you not take up an apprenticeship at my father’s forge? He minds you the least amongst our cousins and mother dotes on you.”  
  
“I would love to”, Fingon sighed as he rested his head against Maedhros’s shoulder, “Russandol, Promise me that you will ask Feanor to convince Father. I will not face him again.”  
  
“I will talk to mother, she will sort it out with father and Nolofinwe”, Maedhros said reassuringly, “Now come home with me, you look famished and ill-rested.”  
  
“What would I do without you?” Fingon murmured as he took his cousin’s helping hand and followed him home.  
  
  
“Findekano!” Maglor’s musical voice hailed him as they walked up the sloping courtyard of Feanor’s palace, “You are safe!”  
  
Fingon smiled nervously as Nerdanel came out, hearing her second-eldest son’s voice, she looked over him critically before saying sharply, “Come in, pitya, you look starved.”  
  
Maedhros brushed Fingon’s hand reassuringly before he turned back to inform the searchers that their kin had returned.  
  
“What were you thinking of wandering in the wildness?” Nerdanel demanded as she placed well-prepared meat and a glass of wine before him, he made to explain, but she continued firmly, “So, you had an argument with your father? Fine! Was the answer to run away alone into the wild? I thought that you had far more sense than that! Could you not have gone to your grandfather’s home or Arafinwe’s or our home? I will always welcome you here, do you not understand that?”  
  
Fingon ravenously attacked the meat and chewing it with relish explained mumbling, “I am sorry. I saw Aegnor in the wild last week and made south further. I do not know how Russandol found me. Well, I sort of stumbled upon him.”  
  
“He always knows where to find you”, Nerdanel smoothed his unkempt black and gold tresses gently, “Will you stay here awhile?”  
  
“I don’t wish to go back, he slapped me, called me unworthy of being his son”, Fingon sighed.  
  
Maglor came in and kissed his mother before saying, “Father is coming and so are my brothers. Maitimo has ridden to inform Nolofinwe. Arafinwe and Grandfather have been told, they rejoice in our cousin’s return and bade me give their love to him.”  
  
Fingon sighed, of course, his uncle would send only his eldest son to Fingolfin. Fingolfin had a special soft corner for Maedhros and the two got on much better than Fingon or his siblings ever had got on with their father.  
  
“Macalaurë”, his mother said quietly taking in Fingon’s slumped form, “Take your cousin to meet your father and then lead him to the spare bedroom next to your own, for he seems exhausted.”  
  
“Do I have to meet Curufinwe today?” Fingon cringed, seeing Feanor was an ordeal even on the best of days.  
  
Nerdanel smiled, but she did not relent, and Fingon followed Maglor to Feanor’s study, wishing desperately that his elder cousin was here. Maglor gave him an encouraging smile before standing back to let him enter.  
  
Fingon took a deep breath and knocked, then he stepped over the threshold of what he was sure would be the worst place to be in Aman.  
  
Feanor’s stormy grey eyes appraised him quietly before he was beckoned to a seat. Fingon swallowed and obeyed hastily, wondering when his uncle’s fierce temper would rise like the inferno.  
  
“I will not condemn you”, Feanor said quietly, “for it is not my place to do so. But your father has made it clear that he does not wish to have you back in his house unless you apologize and take up the apprenticeship wherever he wishes.”  
  
“He does not want me back!” Fingon spluttered.  
  
“He wants you to apologize”, Feanor corrected him, “Findekano, you are of course to free to stay here, but it is your wish.”  
  
“I wish to stay here, that is, if you do not mind”, Fingon waited nervously.  
  
Feanor said nothing for a moment, but then he said fondly, “I am glad then. You are free to join me in the forge if you wish, of course. You are as a son under my roof, and as such you shall be treated. It is a large family, though. I fear that you might lack the care you are accustomed to.”  
  
Fingon said gratefully, “I get along well with my cousins, Curufinwe. I will help you in whatever way I can.”  
  
“So be it”, Feanor nodded.  
  
  
  
Fingon watched curiously as Curufin forged a beautiful sword, his cousin’s face was lit by pride and concentration as he carefully withdrew it from the flames of the furnace fire.  
  
“That is it”, Feanor said approvingly, “Why don’t you try, Findekano? I am sure that you have the art in you.”  
  
  
Fingon was tired, exhausted to his bones as he made his way to the river. Feanor had made him work in the forge until he had perfected the technique. While he was grateful for his uncle’s willingness to teach him, he hated the dark forge, preferring the open grasslands outside. He paused his mad rush to the river as he heard Maedhros’s voice from the shore. His cousin had arrived only that morning and Fingon had not yet seen him, for he had been in the forge.  
  
He walked softly, and peeped through the undergrowth intending to surprise him. The sight he saw, made him gasp softly.  
  
Maedhros was slowly removing his tunic, a faraway expression on his face as he sung softly. Fingon admired the long, lean flanks of his cousin as Maedhros bent down to untie the lace of his leggings. He shuddered as his cousin’s long, corded legs were exposed to the night wind. Maedhros flung away his leggings as he dove into the river gracefully. Fingon watched as he bathed himself, his fingers running through his coppery tresses as he unbraided his hair from its tight plaits and dunked himself under the water.  
  
Fingon felt a sudden rush of blood to his loins as Maedhros leisurely wrapped his hands about his half-aroused organ and stroked firmly. Fingon felt the undeniable growth straining his own leggings and he undid them, taking his arousal in hand and stroking mechanically in rhythm with his cousin’s hands. Maedhros climaxed swiftly, his seed spurting into the river. He hummed pleasantly and dunked himself once again before drawing to the shore. The sight of his porcelain flesh, unmarred by scars and freckles unlike his own, was enough to make Fingon climax with his cousin’s name on his lips. He covered his mouth with his wet hands, his heart beating wildly as he realized what he had done.  
  
Maedhros was looking about curiously, his head tilted as he tried to ascertain the soft scream he had heard. Fingon remained still. But his cousin seemed relaxed by his bath and his pleasure and wrapped a loose robe about himself as he left the river and made for home. Maglor, who had been watching the scene unfold from a treebranch above Fingon, swallowed in shock. Something told him now was not the wise time to clamber down.  
  
  
Fingon knocked on his cousin’s door after the family had retired. Maedhros opened, his face lighting up in a brilliant smile as he saw the visitor, he bade him enter. He was still clad in the loose robe, that barely clung to his shoulders. His hair was still unbound and damp after his swimming. Maglor, who had been sitting on his brother’s bed, bid them good night and left, closing the door behind him quietly.  
  
“I heard you took to our family well”, Maedhros asked, a look of concern directed at his cousin, “You are all right here? I have been worried.”  
  
“Russandol”, Fingon began as Maedhros sat down on the bed cross-legged, patting down the space beside him, “I need to talk with you.”  
  
Maedhros frowned as he asked, “You seem feverish. Are you ill, Findekano?”  
  
“No”, Fingon pushed away Maedhros’s hand from his head, “I have come to apologize for the wrong I have done you.”  
  
Maedhros looked baffled, but he did not interrupt as Fingon began speaking falteringly, “I..Russandol….I was about to take a quick dip in the river before dinner. When I saw you…you were bathing, I was watching you.”  
  
“You should have joined me”, Maedhros said bewildered, a frown creasing his perfect features, “I would not have minded your company, of course!”  
  
“I was watching you, you, while…” Fingon murmured wishing that the floor would swallow him whole.  
  
Realization dawned in the elder cousin’s eyes as he whispered, “Oh! Cousin! I am sorry, I did not know you were there. I”, Maedhros blushed a fierce red, “I am sorry that you had to see that.”  
  
“That is not it, Russandol”, Fingon looked up into his cousin’s grey eyes, “I was excited and climaxed myself”, the look of disbelief and horror that crossed Maedhros’s features, Fingon was sure that he would never forget all his life, “I think I like you in a more than cousinly way. I always have loved you, admired your beauty. But today I am not sure what happened, I desired you.”  
  
“You hate me”, Fingon stated brokenly as they passed long moments in silence, avoiding each other’s tentative looks.  
  
“NO!” Maedhros said firmly, “I never can, Findekano, it is that I am”, he hesitated, “I do not know what to say. Let us talk of this on the morrow. I feel I am much bewildered and sorry tonight.”  
  
  
Maedhros sunk down on his bed weakly after his cousin left with his head bowed down in shame. He was shocked, desire he understood. It was something he had experienced himself, for maids and men alike. But never for a cousin, definitely not for his best friend, Fingon.  
  
He sighed, he had to sort this out without hurting Fingon’s pride and spoiling their deep friendship.  
  
Fingon looked at Maedhros uncertainly as they sat down for breakfast. His cousin was dressed in a tight black tunic and leggings, his hair braided back into an austere plait. Maglor sat next to his elder brother trying to draw him into a conversation, but Maedhros was for the most part reticent and fiddled with the food on his plate.  
  
There was an air of restlessness about him which made Nerdanel finally ask him, “Russandol, what bothers you?”  
  
Maedhros sighed as he abandoned his full bowl of porridge and mumbled, “Nothing, Mother. I feel out of spirits, may I spend the day out?”  
  
“Yes”, Feanor said heartily, “After all you spent a season at your grandfather’s side while your brothers and cousins have been hunting. You deserve a day out.”  
  
Maedhros smiled and kissed his mother and Maglor before bowing to his father and leaving the hall leaving his cousin to swallow in self-loathing. Fingon knew that he was the reason why his cousin left so hastily. Despite what Maedhros had told him yesterday, it was obvious that his cousin hated him. Feanor watched his second eldest son curiously. Maglor’s eyes were following his elder brother until the door had closed behind him.  
  
  
“Maitimo”, Maglor called after his brother, who was already leading his horse out, “Wait a moment.”  
  
“Yes, Macalaurë?” he asked brushing an errant strand of hair from his brother’s face, “Anything you need?”  
  
“Have you fought with our cousin?” Maglor crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrows when Maedhros began to protest, “Come, Maitimo, you never go riding without him when you are together. What is it?”  
  
“I have not fought with him”, Maedhros admitted, “But I need to spend some time away from him, Macalaurë. I need to think.”  
  
“His presence is detrimental to your thinking?” Maglor asked incredulously, “Brother, you are not making much sense.”  
  
“No, no”, Maedhros sighed as they watched Fingon walk towards the forge, a heartbroken expression on his face, “I want to prepare myself for a talk with him regarding certain matters.”  
  
“What are you not telling me?” Maglor squinted suspiciously at his elder brother, “You have never been able to hide things from me.”  
  
“It is nothing”, Maedhros said turning a deep shade of crimson as blood rushed to his cheeks.  
  
“Whatever it is, Maitimo, do not offend him, you are the only one he trusts. Do not betray that trust”, Maglor warned as he stood back to let his brother pass.  
  
  
Maglor never heard what transpired in his brother’s conversation with Fingon. But to all outward appearances, the two cousins seemed as close as before. Yet, Maglor noticed that there was a change in Fingon’s manner. Maedhros never mentioned the incident again. They grew swiftly, their exile suppressing their freedom and pleasures. Of the seven brothers, only Maedhros was affected by their isolation for he had left behind many friendships and dalliances in Tirion. Yet he remained loyal to his father steadily. Fingolfin arrived after a few years to take his son off his half-brother’s hands. Maedhros was sad to be parted from his cousin, but Fingon seemed to take the separation more happily.  
  
“Maitimo”, Feanor called his eldest son to his side as they watched the dust settle down after Fingolfin’s riders had left, “I wish to talk with you.”  
  
Maedhros nodded and followed his father into his study wondering pensively what the matter was. He had heard enough of Morgoth’s lies to last him a lifetime and was glad that Feanor had banned him. Fervently, Maedhros hoped that it would not be any political situation.  
  
“Macalaurë is growing”, Feanor said baldly.  
  
Maedhros frowned but nodded anyway.  
  
“Of my sons, only he is yet to learn the arts of the bower”, Feanor said quietly, “We are in exile, yes, but I would not have him ignorant.”  
  
“I do not see what I can do, Father”, Maedhros said humbly, “None of my friends visit any more. Perhaps I can send word to cousin Finrod and ask someone appropriate to instruct him.”  
  
Feanor nodded saying, “Well, I leave it in your hands, he is sensitive, Maitimo. I want you to choose his first carefully. He has been over-sheltered and I do not want him to be hurt. I would talk with him myself. But I am afraid of frightening him.”  
  
  
  
Maedhros set about his task with his usual determination. First, he compiled a list of all suitable ellith and ellyn in Tirion whom he considered worthy of his brother. Then he narrowed the list down to those who shared Maglor’s interests. Armed with a dozen names, he hurried to his brother’s rooms. The faint sounds of a harp reached him.  
  
Smiling, he bounded into the room. Maglor smiled back from his position on the bed and moved over to create a space for his elder brother asking, “What is that keeps you inside on such a fine day, Russandol?”  
  
“You!” Maedhros laughed as his grey eyes twinkled in delight, “Father asked me to arrange your deflowering!”  
  
Maglor blushed before chiding gently, “You are crude, Maitimo! Why did he ask you? I am old enough to choose.”  
  
“He knows you will never do that!” Maedhros caressed the smooth hair of his brother, “He wants you to be safe. Now, here are a list of all those whom I think you would like. Choose one, haste! Finrod must be sent for. I plan to have this done in weeks.”  
  
Maglor pushed away the list saying furiously, “I will choose when I feel like doing. You may tell father anything you wish. But the matters of my heart and my bower are my concerns alone.”  
  
Maedhros frowned but abandoned his enterprise. A stubborn Maglor was worse than a stubborn Feanor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would have happened if Maedhros had chosen differently? This is mostly from Maglor's point of view. When does his love for his protective brother turn into something incestous? And how long can he keep the secret?

Maglor waited outside Fingon’s tent impatient to see his brother after their long, grieving separation. He did not know how his cousin had managed to rescue his brother, but he was glad. When Fingon finally left the tent, his head bowed and his eyes dark, Maglor stood aside. He did not normally speak with any of his cousins. Whatever dealings he had, it was only with his uncle, Nolofinwe. Taking a deep breath, he entered the tent.  
  
Maedhros was resting on a large bed, his right hand swathed in bandages and his body, mutilated and torn beyond recognition. The red tresses that everyone had admired so much had become a mockery of their former glory. Only those grey eyes still held recognition and life.  
  
“Russandol?” Maglor moved to sit beside his brother, “You are back truly?”  
  
Maedhros smiled nervously whispering, “Something that was once me is now here, Macalaurë, though I do not know which part of me has returned.”  
  
Maglor gently ran his hand over his brother’s marred face saying, “Whichever part it is, I am glad. I thank Findekano for his valiant rescue.”  
  
Maedhros’s eyes darkened as he whispered, “I know. Take me to our camp, brother. I cannot stay here in his tent.”  
  
“You are wounded and cannot be moved!” Maglor hissed angrily.  
  
“Please, Macalaurë, I beg you”, Maedhros whispered hoarsely, “I, I cannot abide here broken and maimed. Take me with you, I will try not to be a burden to you or my other brothers.”  
  
“You could never be a burden to anyone, far less to me!” Maglor said gently, “If you wish to leave, then so be it. I wished not to move you while you were so hurt. We will leave as soon as I have spoken with Nolofinwe.”  
  
Maglor found his uncle outside his tent, standing with his daughter, Aredhel. The fair lady bowed and left quietly, leaving the uncle and nephew alone.  
  
“How is he?” Fingolfin asked, “I could not bear to visit with him while he was thus broken.” It was well known that the second son of Finwe loved Maedhros more than he did his own children.  
  
“He wishes to leave for our own encampment”, Maglor said softly, “I do not wish to move him while he is in this condition. But he insists. I suspect he and Fingon had a disagreement.”  
  
“It would not be the first time”, Fingolfin sighed, “I do wonder what made my son change his adoration of Maitimo for pure hatred, yet he rescued him. It must have a different motive than their friendship”, his eyes took on a far away look, then he said abruptly, “Take your brother home. I will visit with you when he is better. Where are your younger siblings?”  
  
“Hunting”, Maglor said baldly, “They have done nothing else in these new lands. With you leave, I will take my brother across the lake Mithrim. Fingon, I shall inform through my aides. He and I do not get well together.”  
  
“Then so be it”, Fingolfin nodded in agreement.  
  
  
Maglor helped his brother into a caravan and the procession of riders moved around the lake slowly. They were halted once by Finrod Felagund, who had been returning from one of his patrols and wished to speak with Maedhros. But Maglor refused to allow his cousin to see his elder brother in such a broken state. They reached the camp of Feanor and Maglor directed his aides to move his brother into the tent prepared for him.  
  
As the sun set, he joined his brother and sat by his bedside quietly, plucking random tunes on his harp.  
  
“Why do you think Fingon rescued me?” Maedhros asked quietly.  
  
“I believe friendships cannot be easily set aside”, Maglor lied easily not wanting his brother to worry.  
  
“He could have spared my hand, you know”, Maedhros said softly, his voice shuddering with lingering pain, “But he said, even as I dangled there, that I was unworthy to be whole again. He told me of the great Ice. In vain I reasoned with him that I had never agreed with our father. Finally, seeing him unmoved, I begged him to end my life”, Maglor shook his head aggrieved, but Maedhros continued pleadingly, “Listen to me, Macalaurë, I have no one else to turn to. He just laughed and cut off my limb”, Maedhros’s eyes closed as he tried to prevent the bitter tears, “He told me I was useless. Am I, Macalaurë?” he asked fearfully, “I will try to learn to do things with my left hand, as well as I can. Do you hate me? For being maimed and mutilated?”  
  
“You are handsome, Russandol”, Maglor ran his fingers over his brother’s pale face, “You can never be anything but handsome. He lied.”  
  
“Why would he lie?” Maedhros asked quietly, “Bring me a mirror, I have not yet seen myself.”  
  
“Look into my eyes, Russandol. They are truer than a mirror. Do I flinch on seeing you?” Maglor asked gently.  
  
“No”, Maedhros whispered, “You have never lied to me.”  
  
“And why would I begin now?” Maglor smiled and gently began to sing softly until he was sure that Maedhros had fallen into repose. Then he asked the aides to take away all the mirrors and the shining utensils in the surround.  
  
  
Maedhros healed slowly, though he let only Maglor attend to him. Caranthir and the other siblings would occasionally visit them though Maedhros did not find in himself the courage to see his other brothers.  
  
One day as Maglor was gently lowering his brother into a warm bath, Maedhros asked, “Are you not tired of doing this?”  
  
“As I told you once”, Maglor said gently, “You are never a burden to me, as I can never be one to you. Of all my brothers, I love you the most.”  
  
“Do you think I can be looked upon by others without flinching?” Maedhros questioned uncertainly as his brother washed his hair.  
  
Maglor pressed a soft kiss on his brother’s forehead whispering, “I swear on my soul, Russandol, nobody is going to flinch.” He frowned as Maedhros drew his legs to his chest modestly.  
  
“Russandol”, he said sternly, “Unless you wish to be sedated and then washed by the healers, I would advise you to relax!”  
  
Maedhros obeyed hesitantly saying, “I am ugly, Macalaurë. I don’t want you to endure this sight, now that you have washed my hair, I think I can manage the rest of the bath well enough on my own.”  
  
“There is nothing that I have not seen before! You will remain quiet and let me attend to you unless you want me to call in the healers. Choose”, Maglor said severely.  
  
  
  
Encouraged and assisted by his brother, Maedhros re-learnt to ride and duel. He swiftly mastered eating, bathing and dressing himself with his sole hand. By the time, his brothers and Finrod visited, Maedhros had recovered in body and spirit well enough to stand with Maglor at the courtyard and greet them.  
  
“Cousin Maitimo”, Finrod said quietly as they walked together after dinner, talking desultorily, “I wish to speak of something sensitive to you.”  
  
“What is it, Findarato?” Maedhros asked pensively, “If the news is very bad, then I must beg you to not tell me. Macalaurë would be a better choice.”  
  
“It is our cousin Findekano. He has been my brother Orodeth’s lover for decades. Now, he is planning to marry”, Finrod sighed, “Nolofinwe has tried to dissuade him for Orodeth is heart-broken, yet in vain.”  
  
“I am sorry”, Maedhros said sincerely, “I wish I could talk to Findekano regarding this, yet there is a distance betwixt us now. I fear that he will not heed my words.”  
  
“I did not mean to enlist your aid for Orodeth’s cause”, Finrod said softly, “I want to warn you. Findekano has changed, look not in him for your best friend. Keep away from his company as much as you can. And never promise him anything.”  
  
“I”, Maedhros said hesitantly, “I saw that he had changed. Yet on the rocks of Thangorodrim , he bade me promise him one wish. And I agreed.”  
  
  
Finrod sought out Maglor before he left.  
  
“Cousin, Maitimo has recovered well, and I thank you for that, without you, I don’t think he would have coped”, Finrod spoke seriously as they watched Maedhros walk in the courtyard aimlessly, his long robes trailing behind him.  
  
“Yes, Findarato”, Maglor sighed, “But he still dresses like a penitent and will not ride past his own borders. He is afraid of what others would think of him. He does not miss a single chance to rebuke himself, his lack of courage, his marred body and his maimed arm.”  
  
“I think he has become more serene, wise and handsome”, Finrod said softly, “Nolofinwe was of the same opinion. Maybe you should grant him a mirror.”  
  
“The eyes see only what they wish to see, Findarato, I will grant him one when I am sure that his self-loathing has lessened”, Maglor said firmly, “It is heartbreaking to see him wait for reassurance from me for each and every thing.”  
  
“He told me that you give him hope to live”, Finrod said quietly.  
  
“Cousin, I would give my life if it brought him peace and healing”, Maglor said softly as they watched Maedhros pull at his long sleeves to hide his maimed arm as a couple of guards entered the courtyard.  
  
  
Maedhros shivered slightly as he entered Fingon’s tent to answer his cousin’s summons. It had been nearly a decade since the Thangorodrim. Now he had come with Maglor and his brothers to discuss the matters of kingship with his uncle and cousins. They had been feasting when Fingon had asked him to join him in his tent.  
  
“Is it cold?” Fingon asked as he threw a log onto the fire.  
  
“No”, Maedhros replied as he looked about his cousin’s tent, Finrod’s warnings in his mind.  
  
“You made me a promise on the rocks a decade ago”, Fingon did not turn from the fire.  
  
“And I shall keep it, cousin”, Maedhros said solemnly.  
  
“Good”, Fingon said, turning to face his cousin completely, “I demand your obedience to my wishes for half of a single night, for a mere four hours. Is that asking too much?”  
  
“My obedience?” Maedhros stammered, “Cousin, why would you want this?”  
  
“I asked for a fulfilment of your promise”, Fingon said, his eyes narrowed.  
  
“All right, Findekano”, Maedhros shrugged, “As you wish it. I agree to your wish. Four hours, starting now.”  
  
Fingolfin helped his staggering nephew to his feet, trying to gain a hold on the slippery, blood-stained body. He led him into his room and dressed his wounds quietly, singing softly until the stormy grey eyes had closed in exhausted healing sleep. Posting trusted sentries of his own guard outside his bedchamber, Fingolfin set out to find Maglor.  
  
“Macalaurë”, he hailed as he saw his second eldest nephew speaking with Turgon and Artanis, “A moment, if you please.”  
  
“What is it?” Maglor asked concernedly, “You do not seem at peace, Nolofinwe.”  
  
“Your brother has been hurt”, Fingolfin sighed, “By my eldest.”  
  
  
For the second time in his life, Maglor found himself staring at the broken, mutilated body of his beloved elder brother.  
  
“It was my fault”, Maedhros said unsteadily, “I allowed him to.”  
  
“Do you like being tortured so much?” Maglor asked incredulously, “That you would willingly submit yourself thus? If so, why didn’t you just tell me? I could have arranged something with the healers!”  
  
Maedhros turned crimson with shame as he whispered, “No, Macalaurë, I find no pleasure in it. I, I had made a promise to him on the rocks of Thangorodrim and tonight he claimed his right. I had not even thought that he would do this to me.”  
  
“I am sorry”, Maglor said penitently, “I should not have spoken thus to you”, his face hardened, “You should have seen this coming, Russandol, he has always despised the fact that you turned him down all those years ago in Formenos!”  
  
“I wish to leave this place”, Maedhros said sadly, “Every moment is a nightmare.”  
  
“Wait for tomorrow. Hand over your kingship to Nolofinwe. We shall move to Himring”, Maglor soothed his brother.  
  
“Hand over just like that?”, Maedhros raised himself from the bed, “Our brothers and our followers would kill me! And Father’s soul will torment us till the end of the worlds.”  
  
“You hand over the Kingship, not the leadership of our house”, Maglor said firmly, “Our brothers and followers are bound to follow you. As for Father, he should have thought of this when he first burnt those ships!”  
  
“Yet Kingship is not a bauble”, Maedhros said sadly, “I lie if I say that I do not wish to be King.”  
  
“I know, yet what is yours by right will come to you in its own time, Russandol”, Maglor comforted his brother, “We should not cling to it. Meanwhile, is it not better to give it to Nolofinwe? He is wise and able.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would have happened if Maedhros had chosen differently? This is mostly from Maglor's point of view. When does his love for his protective brother turn into something incestous? And how long can he keep the secret?

Maglor watched amusedly as his elder brother bested Finrod yet again in a duel. There was a scowl on his cousin’s fair features. It had been nearly a decade after Maedhros had handed over kingship to their uncle.  
  
Maedhros had then moved to Himring to build a mighty fortress facing Angband. Maglor had moved further east, taking the lands between the rivers Gelion. But he left his lands in the hands of his able chieftains, staying with his brother the most of the time. All their siblings had left, and barely visited their eldest brother. They had never forgiven him for the handing over of the Kingship.  
  
“You win, fair and true”, Finrod gasped, as he accepted Maedhros’s outstretched hand after landing on his back for the seventh time.  
  
Maglor smiled, his brother had recovered well enough from his sufferings, atleast in the daylight. At nights, the cold walls of the fortress still resounded with his screams as he was caught in nightmares. Maglor sighed and made his way inside.  
  
At night, Maglor listened sadly as his brother screamed from the next room, sobbing in anguish at whatever torment he relived in the nightmare. He had tried knocking on his brother’s doors many a time, but Maedhros would beg him to leave him alone. When the sun claimed the sky the next day, they would never speak of the night.  
  
As Maedhros let out a piercing wail, Maglor got to his feet and made to his brother’s door determinedly. He tried the handle, predictably, it was locked from within. He sighed as he unsheathed his long sword and broke open the finely crafted doors. Entering the room, he put his sword down and closed the doors before turning to look at his brother.  
  
Maedhros was cowering in his sleep, his eyes dilated in fear and loathing as he curled into a ball on his side away from the door.  
  
“Stupid, stubborn brother”, Maglor muttered as he lit a torch and set it in a bracket before coming to sit at the bedside.  
  
“Mother?” Maedhros asked shivering as Maglor began soothing his brother’s tresses, “Hold me, don’t make them hurt me.”  
  
Maglor sighed and settled down beside his brother on the large bed, Maedhros snuggled to him, Maglor wrapped his limbs around his brother’s longer ones.  
  
“I am scared”, Maedhros sobbed anguished, “Very scared. Don’t leave me.”  
  
“Never”, Maglor whispered as he kissed his brother’s sweating forehead before crooning softly until Maedhros relaxed in his arms.  
  
  
The next day, Maglor was awoken by a shrill squeal of shock as Maedhros disentangled himself from the mass of limbs and demanded, “What are you doing here?”  
  
“I was sleeping until you woke me up so rudely!” Maglor said testily.  
  
“How did you get into my bed?” Maedhros fumed, “The door has been broken down! How dare you?”  
  
Maglor rose to his feet and said in a placating tone, “I did it because I did not want you to face another night of restless grief, Russandol. You should not shut away yourself thus! You scare me every night with your screaming.”  
  
“So you are disturbed”, Maedhros said wildly, “Fine! I shall move to another wing so that your rest is not disturbed! I knew that I was a burden to you! Atleast the others never deceived me. They were frank with me that I was no more of any worth. You, you fed me false hopes! He should have left me to die there or…or just finished his revenge and left me”, he stormed away, banging the door behind him.  
  
Maglor sat down on the bed wearily. Never in all his years had he seen his elder brother so insecure of himself. He cursed Angband and Fingon liberally before walking to the window and looking out. He saw the dreary Thangorodrim. Cursing again, he set out to find his brother.  
  
Maglor found his brother working feverishly on a patrol plan. Maedhros did not look up as he entered.  
  
“Russandol”, Maglor said quietly, “You are my elder brother, the brother I love the most. I live not for the Oath, but for you. To support you, to help you fulfil the Oath. So that we can live again; so that you can live again. If you ask me to die I shall, not because of my loyalty to our house, but for the love I bear you. You are all that is left to me in this harsh land. And I am sorry if protecting you from your grief, or asking to share in it, angers you. But I will do it again. I want you to choose. Either there will be no more secrets between us, or I shall return to my lands and seek you never again. I will leave you now”, he watched his brother opening his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He left sadly. If Maedhros refused to trust him, then he would lose his elder brother to his grief.  
  
Maglor was awoken that night by a warm body that slipped in next to him.  
  
“Hold me”, Maedhros asked quietly, “I need you, brother, to keep me sane, to give me a cause to fight for.”  
  
“We need each other”, Maglor said softly, as his limbs twined around his brother’s slender form.  
  
“I did not want anyone to pity me in my weakness”, Maedhros confessed as he glanced into his brother’s eyes hesitantly.  
  
“I would never pity you, my brother, never. Even when I saw you broken and helpless, I saw only your determination and courage. Of trials borne and triumphed”, Maglor sighed, “My handsome brother, you are sometimes stupid.”  
  
“Think for me then Macalaurë, lead me to the light again”, Maedhros murmured drowsily, “I trust you.”  
  
  
  
The years passed as Maglor watched his brother become wiser and nobler. Fingolfin fell, and Fingon assumed Kingship. Caranthir and the younger siblings attended the crowning as Maedhros did not wish to see Fingon and Maglor did not wish to leave his brother alone in Hithrim. But Fingon and Maedhros still remained correspondents and strived to forget the mistake of their past.  
  
Finally, Fingon himself decided to visit Hithrim, he did so without warning his cousins. Maglor greeted him and escorted him to the council chamber where Maedhros was occupied with his counsellors. Seeing his cousin, Maedhros paled, but he recovered swiftly to come forward and greet him warmly with a warriors’s embrace.  
  
“My beautiful cousin”, Fingon said softly, “You look as resplendent as ever, Maitimo!”  
  
“Yes, well”, Maedhros said uncomfortable under the King’s scrutiny, “Macalaurë has been taking care of me well.”  
  
“Ever the helpful brother, eh?” Fingon remarked.  
  
Maglor frowned but remained silent as he watched his brother say diplomatically, “Indeed. Cousin, without him I would not be here. He is a treasure.”  
  
“I am glad that you are being well cared for, cousin-mine!” Fingon smiled, “Now lead me to a chamber so that I may refresh and rest.”  
  
Maedhros smiled weakly and led Fingon to a set of chambers usually occupied by noble guests. As the aides withdrew, Maedhros said, “If you had alerted me, then I would have prepared better chambers, cousin.”  
  
“I will never be used to everyone fawning over me”, Fingon said dismissively, “I want to be treated normally, as I have always been treated by you.”  
  
“As you wish”, Maedhros inched towards the door, “If you need anything, please ask Macalaurë or one of our aides. I will take my leave of you now. You must be weary from the journey.”  
  
“I hope that our last meeting has not affected our friendship”, Fingon’s lips curled in a knowing smile, “I still have pleasant memories of those four hours. And you, Maitimo, did you push it away as yet one more horror suffered? But I thought you enjoyed it secretly.”  
  
Maedhros took a deep breath before saying proudly, “It was to honour a promise. I think of it only in that way.”  
  
“You have not forgotten sobbing and begging me, have you?” Fingon asked quietly, “Of course it must be difficult for you to do that yourself with your left hand, I have memories of a night in Formenos. And I am sure that you used your right hand that night in the river.”  
  
“I have forgotten nothing, Findekano”, Maedhros sighed, “But I do not wish to speak of this any more. My chief counsellor will escort you to dinner.”  
  
As he turned to leave the chamber, strong hands gripped him from behind and pushed him against the closed door. After ten minutes of frantic fighting, Maedhros found himself pinned stomach down on the rug, his arms twisted away upwards and his cousin sitting triumphantly on his back.  
  
He whispered quietly, “I have been broken enough by Morgoth, Findekano. Why do you seek to humiliate me more? Are you not satisfied with what I have become?”  
  
Fingon laughed saying, “Your spirit will rise again, Maitimo. But fear not, I will do nothing to harm you. The sight of your defeated face is victory enough for me.”  
  
“Russandol? Findekano?” Maglor’s voice was sharp, “Open the door!”  
  
Fingon got to his feet and helped Maedhros up quietly and whispered in his cousin’s ear, “Why do you fear me, Maitimo? You are a far better warrior than me. I wanted you to defeat me so that I could be assured of your renewed spirit.”  
  
As he opened the door, he found himself face to face with a furious looking Maglor. The Feanorian’s eyes swept over his elder brother’s dishevelled, slumped form before flicking back to Fingon.  
  
“Russandol”, Maglor said firmly, “The patrol is waiting to meet you before they ride out.”  
  
Maedhros nodded to Fingon and left hurriedly, trying awkwardly to smooth his messed-up hair with one hand.  
  
Fingon smiled at Maglor saying, “Your brother and I had a lot to catch up on. I have missed him.”  
  
Maglor narrowed his eyes before saying dangerously, “King or not, you will not touch him again unless you wish to risk my wrath.”  
  
Fingon raised his eyebrows at Maglor’s words remarking, “Why is a gentle minstrel trying to live up to his father’s fire?”  
  
“I may be a minstrel, cousin, but I have slain enough elves and men under our Oath. One more elf, one more Kinslaying, will not change my fate”, Maglor said quietly, “If that Kinslaying would protect my brother, then I shall not regret it.”  
  
“I merely wish to make his flame burn brighter”, Fingon said quietly.  
  
“And a wonderful way you have of achieving it, Findekano”, Maglor shook his head disgustedly, “He is broken more than you realize.”  
  
  
  
Maedhros entered his brother’s bedchamber quietly, taking care to lock the door behind him.  
  
“Why do you fear him?” Maglor asked, “I have spoken to him. He will not do anything again.”  
  
“Macalaurë”, Maedhros sighed, “I do fear him and probably will, even if I have a sword on me always!”  
  
“I will protect you”, Maglor said determinedly, “Now, come here and get into bed. I am sleepy.”  
  
“Who will protect you from him?” Maedhros shuddered, “You are the most handsome of us all, what is to say that he may not desire you next? No, better it is to let this end with me. He is strong.”  
  
“You succumb to him because you fear him, Russandol”, Maglor said firmly, “I do not fear him. He cannot hurt me.”  
  
Maedhros said nothing as he crept into bed and entered the safety of his brother’s comforting embrace.  
  
“What would I do without you?” he whispered after a few moments.  
  
“Go insane probably!” Maglor laughed, “Russandol, did you say that I was the most handsome of us all?”  
  
“I did”, Maedhros said confidently, “Everyone agrees to that. Even our vain cousin Finrod.”  
  
Maglor laughed again saying teasingly, “I cannot believe that people think me more beautiful than my elder brother. Mother always said that you were their most splendid creation.”  
  
“She would have changed her view had she seen me now”, Maedhros said bitterly, “Why else have you had removed all the mirrors from this place?”  
  
“There is a mirror here in my room”, Maglor got to his feet and lit the torches, “Why don’t we have a look at my brother’s reflection?”  
  
“Macalaurë”, Maedhros said uncertainly, “I think it might not be a good idea. I am much distraught by Findekano’s presence already.”  
  
“Nonsense”, Maglor reprimanded his brother, “If I say you can do this, you can! Do you not trust me?”  
  
“Well, yes”, Maedhros sighed as he joined his brother, “Though I cannot help wondering if some of my insanity has passed to you.”  
  
“Close your eyes and obey me”, Maglor commanded as he pressed a kiss to his brother’s fingers interlaced with his own.  
  
Maedhros shrugged in assent and closed his eyes. Maglor gently opened the clasps of the ornate, ceremonial robes that Maedhros wore and eased the clothes down his shoulders. As the robes pooled down at their feet, he uncovered the mirror before them and said quietly, “You may look now.”  
  
Maedhros opened his eyes slowly, hesitant to look at his reflection after so many decades of fearful contemplation. His eyes caught the reflection of his brother’s grey eyes in the mirror and was comforted by the soft confidence in them. Maglor moved to stand before him.  
  
He pressed a kiss to his brother’s cheeks murmuring, “Your face is perfection, like our Father’s gems and our mother’s cold marble craft. Your cheeks are hollow, yet soft. Your lips”, his fingers ghosted over Maedhros’s mouth, “your lips are less red and full than they were. But they are still stubborn and soft. Your ears”, his fingers moved to cup his brother’s left ear, “they are the same. Are you not satisfied by your face?”  
  
“If you can look upon it, then I find that I do not really mind even if I look like an orc”, Maedhros smiled gently, “Not for nothing are you called a poet, Macalaurë! I do envy those who catch your heart.”  
  
“There has never been one for me, Russandol, as you know well”, Maglor said smiling, “now, where was I before you interrupted so basely?”  
  
“You were eloquently describing the beauty of your insane brother’s face”, Maedhros offered.  
  
“These shoulders”, Maglor placed his hands on his brother’s bony shoulders, “they have borne me and my brothers on them for countless hours in our youth. They are not bowed down by the burdens they have”, his hands descended on to the limbs, as he encountered the stump of the missing hand, Maedhros asked curiously, “How would you describe that?”  
  
Maglor bent to kiss the stump remarking, “It reminds me of the strong, fine hand that taught me to wield a pen and a sword. The hand that taught me to play a harp. But now it tells me of a stubborn, determined, brave brother who clung to the right path even when he had no hope. It tells me of the unquenchable fire who is my elder brother.”  
  
Maedhros remained silent, his eyes burning with tears at his brother’s words. Maglor traced the fading scars on his brother’s chest saying softly, “This body may be broken yet again, Russandol, but I promise you that it will never stay broken. The soft skin hides beneath it a spirit harder than any steel forged by our father’s crafts.”  
  
“Thank you, Kano”, Maedhros whispered, “I don’t think I will ever need a mirror again. Your eyes are my mirrors.”  
  
“Good”, Maglor said happily, “Now shall I finish my description?” his fingers fiddled with the ties on his brother’s leggings.  
  
“I would rather not!” Maedhros grumbled good-naturedly tugging his brother’s hands away, “You have no experience, Macalaurë, remember how you glowered at me when I came to you with a list of names that day in Formenos!”  
  
“I wanted to choose in my own time”, Maglor sighed, “Though the Kinslayings drove all thoughts of liaisons from my mind!”  
  
“We are both drowned in regrets, Kano”, Maedhros pulled his brother to his chest and rested his head on Maglor’s shoulders, “But we shall face it together, I promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would have happened if Maedhros had chosen differently? This is mostly from Maglor's point of view. When does his love for his protective brother turn into something incestous? And how long can he keep the secret?

The years passed slowly, Maglor had moved with his warriors to Himring after Fingolfin’s fall. He spent most of his time with his brother, except when he had to lead a patrol. Maedhros rarely led patrols though, preferring to strategize and fortify their lands. Even in the middle of winter, those under the rule of Maedhros had no famine. Maglor would think almost daily about how excellent a High-King his brother would have made.  
  
Word came to them of their cousin’s departure from Nargothond, to aid Beren, son of Barahir to claim Thingol’s brideprice. Maglor rode out to meet Finrod Felagund at the far eastern borders of Himring.  
  
“This is folly, Findarato”, he hissed angrily at his cousin’s stubbornness, “You know well that a dozen men and a single elf can do nothing to escape Angband with a Silmaril! And the Silmaril itself is another matter, our Oaths shall make us kinslayers again! Turn back, let us have the peace we had all these years.”  
  
“I am bound by a promise, cousin”, Finrod sighed, “A promise of honour, which I must pay in full.”  
  
“Will you atleast see Russandol once before leaving? Or Findekano? They know Angband as few others do”, Maglor whispered, a sense of dread rising in him.  
  
“I cannot tarry, cousin. Fingon, I spoke to. But he was angry that I had given my lands to Orodeth instead of him. Maitmo, I cannot meet now. He will not let me leave, Macalaurë, you know that”, Finrod said simply, “He has sworn not to let any of his kin enter the keep of Morgoth.”  
  
  
Finrod Felagund fell, but Beren won a Silmaril and claimed his bride. Maedhros called his brothers to him and counselled them not to attack Doriath. Celegorm and Caranthir, already estranged from their eldest brother, refused to heed his words. Maedhros had a long, bitter, vicious argument with them until they finally gave in. But they left Himring never to return.  
  
“You are an unworthy son of our father!” Carnistir said angrily as he burst into his eldest brother’s study.  
  
“Doriath is well protected by Melian and Thingol!” Maedhros said incredulously, “I will not watch my brothers die before my eyes! Enough pyres have I lit!”  
  
“You are a coward, Nelyafinwe, you do realize that!” Carnistir sneered, “No wonder why cousin Fingon used you like that.”  
  
Maedhros narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean, brother?”  
  
“The walls of the tent are not thick enough, Nelyafinwe, your screams and your ravings, I am sure the entire encampment of Mithrim heard perfectly that night of feasting”, Carnistir said viciously, as he paused pacing to stand directly before his taller brother.  
  
Maedhros tried to hide his mortification as he said calmly, “My personal business is my own concern, brother. And I stick to my judgement in the matter of Doriath. My warriors shall not accompany you if you persist. I have a duty to my people.”  
  
“You gave away your kingship long ago, Nelyafinwe”, Carnistir said bluntly, “All that you have is the Oath of our father. It shall call you to Doriath, whether you wish it or not.”  
  
“Our father would never have the seven of us die to reclaim his accursed jewels!” Maedhros retorted.  
  
Carnistir snarled and slapped his elder brother before striding out cursing Maedhros bitterly. Maedhros slumped down on the window seat, his fingers disbelievingly tracing the mark of his brother’s palm on his stinging cheek. Closing his eyes in pain and humiliation, he leant back against the window and wrapped his single hand around himself. Maglor was with his counsellors in Fingon’s palace. If only his younger brother had been here, then he would not have had to bear this alone. But, Maedhros had sent him away deliberately. He did not want Maglor to witness these arguments.  
  
  
Maedhros rode for Fingon’s palace hastily, only a small escort accompanying him. Both Fingon and Maglor were surprised to see him, for Maedhros rarely left his fortress on Hithrim.  
  
“Cousin”, Maedhros said without any preface, as he was finally alone with Fingon, “My brothers may attack Doriath to reclaim the jewel. I have stopped them, for now. But I cannot hold them back any longer, I fear.”  
  
Fingon sighed, “Maitimo, if you think that I have any influence on them, you are sadly mistaken. They have never heeded my words.”  
  
“There is a way to keep them away from Doriath”, Maedhros said calmly, “We can attack Angband. Morgoth still has two of the jewels, has he not? We can still fight for the oath and do some good instead of kinslaying.”  
  
“You need me to call for war?” Fingon asked softly, “It is a risk far greater than the one I took all those years ago to free you from the rocks of Thangorodrim.”  
  
“You know that Orodeth will join to avenge Finrod. The Moriquendi will also come. The men of the houses of Edain were ever Finrod’s allies. My brothers lead strong armies. You and I command the largest forces. Even a few houses of men from the south have pledged to fight alongside us. The Naugrim can be persuaded. Caranthir is ever their hero”, Maedhros said hopefully, “Even your brother may come.”  
  
“It is a good plan”, Fingon sighed, “We need Dorthonion first.”  
  
“I will manage it”, Maedhros said confidently.  
  
“You have not fought even in a skirmish since Angband!” Fingon protested, “Whatever you may think of me, I still care for you. You are not fighting!”  
  
“All right, Macalaurë will lead my host”, Maedhros shrugged, “I am not too keen to fight ever again.”  
  
“Good”, Fingon said thoughtfully, “Once you claim the three jewels, what will you do? Reclaim the kingship of the Noldor?”  
  
“No, cousin”, Maedhros sighed, “If ever we claim them, I shall give myself to the Valar’s judgement. Macalaurë and I have decided on it. You are a good king”, he smiled wistfully, “A better king than I would ever be.”  
  
“You taught me to rule”, Fingon whispered, “You taught me and all your brothers everything you knew. Always you were selfless. I have always loved and admired you in my own way, Maitimo.”  
  
“It breaks my heart to see all those I loved and taught fall”, Maedhros sighed, “I have no wish to light yet another pyre.”  
  
“I pray that you don’t have to light a pyre again, Maitimo”, Fingom said fervently, “Of all of us doomed, you deserve the light of Valinor again.”  
  
  
Yet Maedhros had to light many more pyres. For the armies were betrayed. Turgon came, yet Fingon fell. Maedhros covered Turgon’s retreat as well as he could, taking the brunt of the offensive. Then he gathered his warriors and retreated defeated to the wilds of Ered Lindon. But Caranthir and his brothers forced him to attack Doriath, there they slew the King Dior and his wife.  
  
Maedhros lit pyres for two of his brothers before searching for Dior’s twin sons in vain. He retreated with his brother to Lindon again. Though Gil-Galad, Fingon’s son and high-king, asked Maedhros and Maglor to come to his palace, they stayed away. The oath drove them to the havens of Sirion and they saw Dior’s daughter drown in the sea with the jewel on her breast.  
  
“They are twins”, Maglor said pensively as he looked at the sleeping boys in the wagon.  
  
“Kano”, Maedhros sighed, “We should just send them to Gil-Galad, we are in no fit condition to foster elflings.”  
  
“Russandol, you listen to me”, Maglor said firmly, “We will foster them.”  
  
“As you wish, Macalaurë”, Maedhros succumbed to his brother’s determination.  
  
  
The twins took to Maglor quickly and soon became his companions on most of his hunting and patrol trips. They learnt to wield a harp and a pen, they learnt lore and songs, medicine and diplomacy from their foster-father. Sometimes Maedhros found it ironic that Maglor, who had always left Maedhros to raise their younger brothers, was sparing no pains to raise a twin pair of foster sons whose mother they had chased to her death.  
  
“Lord Nelyafinwe”, Elrond asked him softly, “Would you teach us to duel? Ada told us that you fight very well.”  
  
“So does he”, Maedhros smiled at the young elf, “But call him hither, I haven’t duelled with him for a long time.”  
  
“You want me to fight you?” Maglor was sceptical as he strode to the cleared courtyard where his brother waited patiently, Elros and Elrond were seated on the ground, their expressions eager.  
  
“We haven’t duelled for a long time, Macalaurë”, Maedhros replied as he set away the scrolls he had been perusing, “Indulge me.”  
  
Maglor shrugged as he removed his formal robes and tossed them to Elrond. His body seemed deceptively slender underneath his tunic and leggings, but Maedhros knew the strength under the softness. He had seen it many a time in battle.  
  
“Russandol?” Maglor asked irritably, “Are you going to gawk at me all day?”  
  
Elrond and Elros laughed merrily before Elrond remarked, “You are handsome enough, Ada. Do stop scowling.”  
  
“The scowl makes him more handsome”, Maedhros said as he stepped forward, his sword gripped in his left hand.  
  
“Remove your robes, Russandol”, Maglor commanded, “They might get torn.”  
  
“I am afraid that I have an arm missing, Macalaurë , the young ones might be uncomfortable”, Maedhros shrugged.  
  
Maglor narrowed his eyes in a manner so reminiscent of Feanor that his elder brother removed his robes immediately. He advanced to stand before Maglor, casting an uneasy glance at the twins, who were looking curiously at the stump which was once his right hand. They did not look revolted or disgusted, Maedhros observed more calmly. He had never appeared before them thus until now, afraid to scare them.  
  
Maglor struck the flat of his sword against his brother’s sword to call him back from his thoughts. Maedhros smiled apologetically and bowed according to the ritual. Maglor responded and they moved backwards from each other, their eyes automatically performing the customary inspection of the opponent’s defences.  
  
Maedhros charged first, knowing well that surprise was the only way to overcome his brother. Maglor parried well before starting his own counterattack. They fought gracefully, the fluid movements of Maglor’s sword contrasting with the trickier moves of his brother’s weapon. The onlooking twins clapped and cheered whenever Maglor gained the upper hand, their love for their foster father evident from their lusty support for him. Maedhros spun around his brother swiftly and crooked his leg through his brother’s legs causing Maglor to fall suddenly, the sword clattering from his hands. Maglor raised his hands in acknowledgement of his defeat, a gentle smile playing on his soft lips. Elros and Elrond hastened to him worriedly, but he assured them that he was fine and then turned to face his brother.  
  
“You fight as well as you always do”, Maedhros pressed a kiss to his brother’s forehead.  
  
“I cannot say the same of you”, Maglor teased, “You fight much better than you used to.”  
  
  
Maglor watched contentedly as Maedhros walked away, his robes thrown on above his tunic again.  
  
“He loves you so much”, Elrond observed as he leant his head on his foster-father’s shoulder, “he is always so gentle with you.”  
  
“He is a gentle soul, Elrond”, Maglor remarked, “If we had remained in Tirion, he would have become the most loved of the princes of our house.”  
  
“He will find peace”, Elrond said firmly, “And you also. The Valar cannot be so cruel, can they, Ada?”  
  
“I hope not, Elrond”, Maglor sighed, “But I only wish never to be parted from him, whatever happens in the future.”  
  
“Ada”, Elrond looked up into his foster-father’s eyes, “You love him more than you love a brother. It is like I love my twin.”  
  
Maglor smiled sadly, “I fear you are right, Elrond. I have always prayed that nobody would confront me with the truth. He has suffered much that no elf should suffer. Yet he lives. I will not break his trust in me. I, I am his last hold on sanity.”  
  
  
  
“You are not good company”, Maedhros complained as he watched his brother silently stare at the sky.  
  
“Have you ever loved, Russandol? Like the love our parents had for each other?” Maglor asked quietly as he turned to face his elder brother.  
  
They could hear the tell-tale sounds of a night well spent from the tent that the twins shared. Maedhros looked in that direction distractedly before facing his brother again and replying, “Love of a bonded-mate? Ah, Macalaurë, you know that I would never keep it a secret from you if I had loved anyone that way. I am not like you, of course, I spent all my life in Formenos after my majority trysting with young elves from Tirion.”  
  
Maglor did not reply as he looked at his brother searchingly. Maedhros was flustered by the steady gaze and asked nervously, “Why are you asking that tonight of all nights?”  
  
“I have fallen in love, Russandol”, Maglor replied as he strode past his brother into their tent, his face inscrutable.  
  
Maedhros stood solitarily until a warrior on sentry duty enquired about his health. Sighing, he followed his brother into the tent, the languorous moans from his brother’s foster-sons’ tent driving him to distraction.  
  
Maglor was on his side, occupying the far side of their large bed. He did not turn to face his brother when Maedhros crept into the bed. They lay in silence until Maedhros whispered, “Is it anyone I know?”  
  
“You know everyone I know”, Maglor sighed, “How can it be anyone you do not know, Russandol?”  
  
“Was it, sudden?” Maedhros asked quietly, “Is that why you told me now?”  
  
“It was growing steadily for centuries. I have always refused to see it for what it was. But today, it has finally broken my restraint”, Maglor said softly.  
  
“I want you happy”, Maedhros whispered, “And always at peace. And safe. I love you more than I love myself. I wish the doom did not rest on you. I would gladly take your curse upon myself if it would give you a treasured life with your love and with your foster-sons.”  
  
“You did not ask me who it was”, Maglor reminded him emotionlessly.  
  
“Macalaurë, Kano, I cannot hear the name from your lips, please”, Maedhros shuddered, “I had always assumed that you would be with me till the end. Now I am loath to hear named the person who will take you from me.”  
  
“Yet I wish to speak that name”, Maglor said determinedly.  
  
“So be it”, Maedhros said in a vanquished tone.  
  
“Russandol”, Maglor said softly.  
  
“Yes?” Maedhros asked wearily, “I am listening, Kano.”  
  
Maglor cursed as he bent over his brother’s face, tears shimmered in his brother’s eyes, “Fool”, Maglor whispered, and bent to press a soft kiss on his brother’s quivering lips, “I spoke the name of the person I love.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What would have happened if Maedhros had chosen differently? This is mostly from Maglor's point of view. When does his love for his protective brother turn into something incestous? And how long can he keep the secret?

Maedhros waited expectantly for Maglor to arrive from the battle. He had remained behind with the twins. Maglor was leading their warriors and fighting under Gil-Galad’s banner.  
  
Elros asked impatiently, “Lord Maedhros, when will the messengers arrive?”  
  
“I have no idea”, Maedhros sighed, “It is the first time I have abstained from a battle and my brother has ridden.”  
  
“Why didn’t you go?” Elrond asked softly, “You fight much better than he does.”  
  
Maedhros smiled grimly, “Macalaurë fears that I will do something dramatic like swooning on the battlefield. You know how he is. And I do not want to add to his worries.”  
  
“After this, he said that we must live with you no more”, Elros said sadly, coming closer to Maedhros hesitantly. Though they had always been on good terms, the twins maintained a distance from their foster-father’s brother.  
  
“You will not allow that”, Elrond said hopefully, “Will you, Russandol?”  
  
“What did you call me?” Maedhros swallowed his tea in surprise as he stared at Elrond. Elros was winking at his twin appreciatively.  
  
“That is what Ada calls you”, Elros said smiling, “May we not call you the same?”  
  
“If you wish so”, Maedhros shrugged uncomfortably, “Though I would much prefer if you call me something less ridiculous.”  
  
“But Russandol suits you!” Elrond protested, “You look so handsome in the winter. Only Ada is more handsome than you.”  
  
“How many elves have you seen to pass so firm a judgement?” Maedhros fought down a sudden urge to blush at the compliment.  
  
“Plenty enough”, Elros shrugged, “We saw Gil-Galad, Cirdan, your cousin Artanis, her husband, her daughter and so many elves. You look the most handsome of them all.”  
  
“How were you in the beginning?” Elrond asked softly, “I mean before the time in Angband?”  
  
Elros shot a warning glance at his twin. Maedhros said quietly, his grey eyes taking a distant look, “I do not remember. I assume I was more or less like this, though,” he smiled softly, “I had two arms. You will have to ask Macalaurë if he remembers.”  
  
“Ada showed us drawings that Princess Aredhel had made, you look very wild there”, Elros commented, “Especially in the picture where you dance with a Vanyarin lad.”  
  
“I hope he has not shown everything”, Maedhros shuddered inspite of himself, “Then I would compelled to retaliate.”  
  
“You will forget all plans of revenge once you see him”, Elrond laughed, “You have always given in to him.”  
  
“As your brother gives in to you”, Maedhros remarked wryly, watching Elros and Elrond share a heated look, “Maybe I should retire, it is late.”  
  
“No, stay, Russandol”, Elros said easily as he tugged his twin to his feet, “We will retire. You are obviously not going to find rest. Then it is more comfortable here than in your bed.”  
  
  
Maedhros hugged his brother gratefully as Maglor entered the tent.  
  
As he held back Maglor to scrutinize him for any hurt, he said softly, “Never leave me behind again, Kano, I nearly went insane but for the twins.”  
  
Maglor laughed musically, “It is all right now. Morgoth has fallen into the void. They have destroyed Thangorodrim. We are free now.”  
  
“The jewels? What of the jewels?” Maedhros asked hesitantly, “Are we to kill again for them?”  
  
“Eonwe wants to speak with us regarding the jewels, he has them under guard”, Maglor sighed, “And he wishes to speak with Elrond and Elros too. Gil-Galad has claimed his right to take his cousins to his palace.”  
  
“They are of age enough to choose”, Maedhros said softly, “Though I must say that Gil-Galad can provide them more than we dispossessed folk can.”  
  
“You have been brooding again”, Maglor narrowed his eyes.  
  
  
Maedhros rode into the camp of the hosts of the West with his brother and their warriors, his mahogany hair was plaited away from his face, a slender circlet of the house of Feanor graced his high forehead. As he dismounted, the royal black robes that he wore, floated about him gently. Maglor joined him, dressed in purple velvet robes. They were followed by the twins, clad in identical tunic and leggings.  
  
Gil-Galad, Cirdan, Celeborn and the rest of the leaders of the armies watched in awe as they saw the eldest son of Feanor for the first time after the battle of the unnumbered tears. He had become so much a recluse, letting his brother deal with the outside world, that they had forgotten his fell beauty and regal demeanour. He nodded to Galadriel, sister of his beloved friend and cousin who had perished in the dungeons of Morgoth. She bowed to him as he walked past her.  
  
“Why do you respect a kinslayer?” Cirdan asked her incredulously.  
  
“He is the noblest of my house”, Galadriel said steadily, “And deserves all our respect and allegiance.”  
  
  
Eonwe said quietly, “Your Oath is rendered null, Feanorians, what will you do?”  
  
Maedhros looked at Maglor for a moment before saying determinedly, “We will take the judgement of the Valar.”  
  
“There will be no mercy once you sail the sea”, Eonwe warned.  
  
“Not even the harshest of the judgements will cause us suffering than that which we have already done with our self-loathing”, Maedhros said quietly.  
  
Elrond clung to Maglor sobbing inconsolably as they stood at the grey harbour of Mithlond. Elros was saying his farewell to Maedhros. Gil-Galad, Cirdan and many other nobles stood to watch them leave.  
  
“You will see us again, Elrond”, Maedhros said quietly as he joined his brother, “The Valar will not punish us for ever.”  
  
“They cannot punish you”, Elrond said whimpering, “I refuse to call them the Valar if they judge you harshly.”  
  
Maglor kissed the crown of his head whispering, “Elrond, be brave and noble. Remember that we erred because we had no choice. Show those who err the same mercy that we pray the Valar will grant us.”  
  
“I cannot be parted from you so soon after losing him to mortality”, Elrond said angrily, “Why did he choose it?”  
  
“Sometimes, Elrond, we do not choose. The choices are made for us”, Maedhros said softly as he stooped down to press a quick kiss on Elrond’s cheek, “I will always think of you both.”  
  
“Russandol has finally succumbed to our charms”, Elros teased as he joined them and embraced Maglor tightly, “I will miss you, Ada.”  
  
“You will be there in my heart always, Elros, you and your twin”, Maglor said fervently.  
  
“Ada”, Elrond whispered in a conspiratorial voice, “What will you do about him?”  
  
“He is blind, Elrond”, Maglor shook his head, “I shall have to pelt his head with stones to get my meaning clear.”  
  
“He is simply afraid, Ada”, Elrond said softly, “All you need to do is to take the first step.”  
  
As Elros turned to bid farewell to Maedhros, Maglor sought Galadriel. She was standing with Gil-Galad, her austere features gloomy.  
  
“Cousin Artanis”, Maglor sighed, “I wish to ask a favour of you.”  
  
“I will keep an eye on them, Macalaurë ”, she said softly, “You need not ask it of me. What else are kin for?”  
  
Maglor bowed lightly and they stood silently till Gil-Galad asked, “Are you not afraid?”  
  
“Of the judgement?” Maglor asked, “No, we had vowed long ago to submit to this should this day ever come. We are not afraid, though I do not wish to be parted from my brother. As long as we suffer the same judgement, I do not truly care.”  
  
Maedhros joined them with the twins in tow and asked Galadriel, “You will not return for judgement with the host of the west, Artanis?”  
  
“No, Maitimo”, she smiled, “I have better things to keep me here. But convey my regards to my father and your mother.”  
  
“If we step on the blessed realm, I will”, Maedhros said wryly before submitting himself patiently to a kiss from her.  
  
‘I love you, cousin, I loved all of you”, she said clinging to him with tears in her eyes, “Now I am alone here with memories of the fifteen others who have left me.”  
  
“If things had been different, I would have begged you to board the ship with us, Artanis. Yet, I cannot take you not knowing what awaits us there”, he embraced her gently before handing her to her husband’s care.  
  
Maedhros stood by his brother quietly as Maglor waved to the twins until the harbour had faded out of sight. He embraced Maglor as they lost sight of the tall ships still towed in at the ports.  
  
“Russandol”, Maglor whispered, “We will do this together.”  
  
“I do not know where I would be without you, Macalaurë”, Maedhros whispered back as he pressed a chaste kiss to his brother’s forehead.  
  
  
  
The judgement circle was stark and forbidding. Maedhros shivered once as he was led into the centre. The Valar sat in places of honour. There were two elves, Maedhros felt a pain of recognition as he saw one of them was Finarfin, his father’s half-brother.  
  
“Nelyafinwe Maitimo”, Manwe said loudly, “What do you have to say?”  
  
Maedhros took a deep breath and began his defence, “Lords of judgement, I am the eldest son of Feanor, son of Finwe. I was raised in Valinor by my parents and my grandfather. I had six brothers and seven cousins all of whom I loved dearly. My father crafted the Silmarils with the light of the Trees. He bound the fate of his house to them. When Morgoth slew his beloved father and stole the jewels, he swore an oath of revenge. Being his eldest son, I had a duty to him, I swore the same oath. As did my brothers. We stole the ships of the Teleri after the kinslaying. We left our kin to perish on the Ice. We burnt the ships. We chased Morgoth to Angband, but my father fell. I assumed kingship of the Noldor. I was captured by Morgoth and held prisoner until my valiant cousin Fingon, son of Fingolfin, rescued me. I gave the crown to my uncle, for I could see no other way to repair the wrongs we did by him. We fought for our people, but the oath demanded the blood of Dior. We hunted his daughter to death and orphaned her sons. I plead guilty to all of this.”  
  
“You have nothing to add?” Manwe asked.  
  
“Spare my brother, My Lord. He swore the oath for loyalty to the family. He did not mean it, he has regretted every drop of blood claimed by his sword. He was ever loyal to our family, he took in and fostered Dior’s grandsons. Of all of us, he does not deserve punishment. Add to my sentence if you would, but let him have peace”, Maedhros bowed to Manwe.  
  
Maglor was brought in, he was reassured by his uncle’s presence in the court. He bowed to the Lords and said in his musical tone, “I plead guilty to all that you accuse me of.”  
  
“We accuse you of nothing”, Manwe said quietly, “What do you accuse yourself of?”  
  
“I did everything I did because I loved my family, my father, my brothers, especially Maitimo. He was broken in spirit and body so badly”, Maglor said softly, his voice carrying lingering pain, “I want him to suffer no more, my lords. I will take on his punishment. He should not suffer more. Morgoth broke him, tortured him for years until he had nearly lost his sanity. His own cousin used him. His brothers rebelled against him. The only fault he had was that he loved his kin too much.”  
  
“What say the lords?” Elbereth asked in her melodious voice, “We have heard them defend each other.”  
  
Finarfin stood and spoke quietly, “I plead the lords to be lenient on my nephews. They have paid the price in full for their father’s deeds.”  
  
Aule spoke softly, “The spirit of fire lives on in them, yet it is tempered by their mother’s grace.”  
  
Yavanna added, “They have both suffered enough.”  
  
Manwe said angrily, “Yet they have slain their kin!”  
  
“As you have imprisoned your brother in the void!” Elbereth said harshly, “Judge not by different standards!”  
  
Mandos, who had remained quiet till then spoke, “Let them return to the realm of white sands. They are the most loved of their fallen house.”  
  
  
Maedhros smiled at his uncle as he waited on the courtyard for his brother. Finarfin had brought him to his home in Tirion. They had fallen into the easy conversations that they had shared millennia ago.  
  
“Artanis sends you her regards”, Maedhros offered quietly.  
  
“It is strange that she alone of the five who left me should be alive”, Finarfin remarked, “Findarato was so mild.”  
  
“Oaths and promises have wrecked us all”, Maedhros sighed as he wondered about Maglor’s judgement trial.  
  
“I wish to hand over my kingship to you, Nelyo, you are the rightful heir to the throne of my father”, Finarfin said softly.  
  
“I gave up my right long ago, uncle”, Maedhros said shrugging, “You will make a better king than me anyday.”  
  
“I insist”, Finarfin said firmly, “talk to your brother and decide.”  
  
  
Maedhros felt his brother’s arm reassuringly linked with his own as they entered the large feasting hall for the banquet that his uncle had arranged to welcome them.  
  
He smiled at old acquaintances uncertainly, pulling at his robes in nervousness as he approached the high throne where his grandfather had once sat. Finarfin arose from the throne and descended quietly. The hall fell into total silence as the uncle bowed before the nephew, a slender circlet in his outstretched hands. Maedhros looked into his brother’s calm eyes once more before taking a deep breath and accepting the kingship. Maglor watched proudly as his brother requested their uncle to crown him. Then Maedhros embraced his uncle and climbed the stairs to the throne, his heart beating wildly within him.  
  
As the elves knelt down to acknowledge their high-king, Maedhros said in a clear voice, “Together we shall rise again, Noldor of Valinor. Never shall the Nolodante be repeated in these halls again.”  
  
He saw himself reflected in the clear mirrored walls facing the throne. He looked in astonishment at the stranger before him. The last time he had looked in a mirror was in the same hall, before a dance, millennia ago. He had been tall, well-built and handsome with auburn hair, soft grey eyes and long, graceful limbs. Now, the reflection before him showed an elf he did not recognize. His hair was a brilliant coppery red, his eyes a stormy metallic grey, with the depth of wisdom and grief. His features were slender, his cheeks hollowed. His grandfather’s crown sat proudly on his head. His deep purple robes fluttered about him regally, encasing his slender figure. His left arm rose slowly to hold aloft the sceptre of the Noldor king as he held his brother’s steady gaze.  
  
Maglor felt peace pervade him as his brother raised his left hand which held the sceptre of office. Standing beside his uncle, he raised his goblet of wine with the rest of the Noldor assembled to salute their new king. Maedhros smiled, his features lighting up, as he sat down gracefully on his grandfather’s throne.  
  
  
“I am proud of both of you”, Nerdanel whispered as she embraced her sons after the crowning. Her eyes defiantly avoided the stump of the right hand of her eldest son.  
  
Maedhros sighed as he kissed her cheeks saying, “We missed you. I missed you too much. You will stay with us, Mother?”  
  
“I cannot”, Nerdanel whispered, “I stay with my father’s kin now. I cannot return to the house where I witnessed so much grief. I don’t have your courage, my sons.”  
  
  
Maglor hummed softly to calm himself as he watched the stars from his position near the window. It was terrifying to be back in their grandfather’s home, in the same room where Maglor had grown up. Even his personal things lay littered about as they were left on that hasty flight to Middle-Earth. Yet there was peace, he felt happy and sheltered. All that he wished for was for his elder brother to understand him.  
  
The door opened softly and Maedhros entered requesting shyly, “Will you hold me tonight, Macalaurë ?” he was still in the robes he had worn for his coronation ceremony though he had removed the crown. Maglor thought he had never seen his brother look so vulnerable and handsome.  
  
“I wish for that pleasure every night”, Maglor moved to his brother’s side and gently helped him out of his robes and tunic. He fiddled with the ties of his brother’s leggings absently.  
  
“Maybe I should complete my description”, he remarked wickedly, watching his brother flush in embarrassment, “We left it incomplete the last time.”  
  
“Did you mean what you said in that tent all those years ago?” Maedhros asked hesitantly as he threaded his fingers through his brother’s dark tresses.  
  
“When have I lied to you, Russandol?” Maglor raised his brows.  
  
“I”, Maedhros took a deep breath to steady himself, “I am afraid of this, Kano. You will have to lead me as you do in everything else.”  
  
“For someone untouched you are very bold”, Maedhros complained as he watched Maglor tug at the laces holding up his leggings.  
  
“I suppose I have waited long enough”, Maglor whispered, “I am glad that mother refused to stay here. I am used to having you to myself completely, I cannot stand her fussing over you”, he pressed a fleeting kiss to Maedhros’s lips.  
  
As the soft moonlight cast shadows on the sharp planes of Maedhros’s body, Maglor cleared his voice and began, “Your stomach, Russandol, is so taut and flat like that of a hunting hound”, he slid his palms along the thin thighs slowly causing Maedhros to shiver, “I envy the horses which were caressed by these magnificent legs”  
  
He bit his lips to stifle a smile as he deliberately brushed against the juncture of the legs, causing Maedhros to stammer, “I think, Macalaurë, that you have recited sufficient poetry for tonight. I truly cannot stand more of this!”  
  
“Stop me, Russandol”, Maglor whispered.  
  
Maedhros bent down to press a warm kiss on his lips whispering, “I know of no other way, Kano.”  
  
“May I?” Maglor stepped back and watched his brother’s expressive face, “I am tired of waiting.”  
  
Maedhros shrugged uncaringly before whispering, “I am tired of waiting myself. What would I do without you, Macalaurë?”  
  
“We shall never have to find out, Russandol”, Maglor pulled him closer.  
  
  
From the garden, Finarfin smiled sadly at the scene played in the room before him and turned away. His nephews had found their love after so much grief.  
  
“That is what makes their love so precious and true”, Elbereth told him as she accosted him in the woods.  
  
Finarfin bowed to her, “You are right, fair Lady. What has seen fire and ice will never burn out or melt away. Such is their love.”


End file.
